Finding Out Who I Am
by butterflyKisses26
Summary: All her life Samantha has wondered who her father was. When she finally discovers his identity she travels to New York to find him. Will she like what she finds or not? Future fic 'bout Ephram and Madison's daughter.
1. So it begins

Disclaimer: No I do not own Everwood or anything pertaining to the show. I do own this title, any original characters, and this plot line.

Author's Note: I'm so happy that Everwood has started a brand new season! I can't wait to see what happens this year. Anyway, I hope you all enjoy this story and review.

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**Finding Out Who I Am**

Chapter One

"Who are you?" he asked, his hair falling into his eyes as he looked at me through the crack in the door.

"I'm your daughter." I replied, my voice strong and calmer than I felt. Hadn't I waited my entire life for this moment? I had reason to be nervous.

Really that's only the middle of my story. It _really_ starts months before when I gathered up the courage to ask my mother the question that had been filling my head for as long as I can remember.

* * *

My mother has always been more like a best friend than a mom. She had me only a few months before her twenty-second birthday and she never once regretted having me. At least not that I know of. We've always been close my mother and I, and I couldn't ask for anyone better than her. But for most of my life I'd always wondered who my father was. Mom never talked 'bout him, and her hometown of Everwood, Colorado was always off limits to talk about. Hell she wouldn't even talk about her own mother, my grandmother. Nor did the old lady ever come and visit us. Somethin' about mom having me outta wedlock or some other bull like that.

It was the summer after my senior year of high school. I had recently graduated and my future was looking bright. I had filled out applications to many of the top name universities and had already been accepted to Harvard and Yale. The one thing mom always said to me was how I had my father's brains and talent. She would always get this strange look in her eyes whenever I played the piano. It was like she was living in the past, reliving every moment she had spent with my father, the man whose name I didn't even know.

All of my friends had plans that summer. Their parents were either taking 'em to the beach, or over to Europe. See, most of my friends had butt loads of money and their parents always took them on these awesome vacations. While all of my friends were off having good times though, I was stuck at home, wishing I had somewhere to go. But mom didn't have the money for us to go gallivanting 'round the country. So, I spent the first few weeks of my summer locked away in the house, practicing my piano.

Even though I'd been accepted to two really amazing colleges, I was still holding out hopes that Juliard would call me in for an audition, so I had to keep my skills sharp. I was always glad that mom had to work everyday those first few weeks, it kept me from having to see that far away look she gets. And this is where my story really begins.

* * *

I was sitting down at the piano, my fingers flying over the keys. Lost in my own world, the world of quarter notes and eighth notes, treble clefs and four-four time, I didn't hear the phone ringing. Pausing to turn the page of my music, the ringing of the phone broke through the veil that surrounded me. I got up quickly and hurried to the phone, picking it up just before the answering machine turned on.

"Hello?" I said, balancing the receiver on my shoulder as I played with the drawer of the desk the phone sits on. It was my mother's desk. A nice small oak one where she pays all the bills and works on her articles for our town's newspaper.

When I was little I can remember sitting on the floor, watching as she stressed over how to pay the bills that had just come in. Looking back on it now, things would have been so much easier on us, we could have lived better, if she had just swallowed her pride when she had found out that she was pregnant with me.

"Sam I need you to do me a favor," it was Candice, my mom's best friend, "Can you watch Valerie tonight? Her dad's comin' home tonight and we just really need to be alone for a little while."

"Yeah sure," I replied, "no prob."

"Thank you so much. If you can come by say 'round seven."

"Ok." I said.

"Thank you Sam." With that Candice hung up and I placed the phone back in its cradle.

I don't know how, but by some weird coincidence my finger got stuck in the small metal handle on the top drawer of the desk. As I tried to tug my finger out, the drawer didn't budge. It was locked. Confused as to why mom would lock one of the drawers, I finally managed to get my finger unstuck and then turned to inspecting the desk. Why would mom lock it? There must have been something important in there. Something that I shouldn't see, but was that going to stop me from finding out what it was? No.

Searching through the other desk drawers I finally found a small key that was hidden beneath a stack of papers.

"Real original spot mom." I said putting the key into the locked drawer. There was nothing in the drawer except one lonely envelope. Now I'm a really curious person, so of course I had to see what was in there. So I pulled out the letter and read it.

* * *

"When the hell were you planning on telling me that you were paid to keep me a secret from my father?" I yelled at mom as soon as she walked through the door later that afternoon.

"Why were you going through my stuff?" she asked, her voice an eerie calm, but her eyes flashing menacingly.

"I asked you first." I snapped. I had stepped over the line.

"Don't you _dare_ use that tone with me young lady," she said, "I am the mother here, not you."

"Whatever." I rolled my eyes. If I was over the line already I might as well stay over it.

"Go to your room." Mom ordered, her voice low and husky with repressed anger. I stayed where I was. "I said go to your room Samantha." Her voice was slowly rising.

"Not until you tell me what I want to know." I retorted. Her eyes flashed.

"Got to your room NOW!" she yelled.

* * *

I had read the letter at least twenty times since going up to my room. Mom had called Candice and told her I was grounded so I couldn't watch Valerie, so I had nothing better to do then read and reread the words written by my grandfather. My grandfather. That was a strange phrase. I'd never called any man grandfather before since mom's family had disowned her when she got pregnant with me. But this man, the one who had sent the letter and the money to take care of me, this man was as much my grandfather as mom's dad was. He was nonexistent in my life. The only thing I knew about him was his name, Andy Brown. What was that to go on?

Climbing off my bed, I sat down at my desk and switched on my laptop before login onto the internet. A quick Google search brought up all the information I needed.

Andy Brown, world-renowned brain surgeon, and father of the man who doesn't even know he got my mom pregnant. I looked through his bio until I found what I wanted to know.

_Children: Deliah Brown- Sports Journalist for the Denver Times_. _Twenty-seven. Single. Ephram Brown- Concert pianist/composer. Residence- New York City. Thirty-four. Divorced._

I couldn't believe it. I finally knew who my father was. He was _The_ Ephram Brown. I'd heard of him of course. What aspiring musician hadn't? Ephram Brown was famous for his compositions and his incredible flare at the piano. And he was my father.

* * *

Ok, so it was short, but I think it's off to a good start. Please review and tell me what you all thought. Oh yeah, sorry for any names that aren't spelled correctly.


	2. Face to face

**Ok, so like I don't know Madison's last name, so I'm totally making up one of my own. If anybody has a problem with that too bad, call it creative license. Also, I know _nothing_ about New York City, so I'll probably be making some stuff up until I can find the time to do some research on the place.**

Chapter Two

As the plane taxied down the runway, getting ready to take off, I stared out my window at the slowly setting sun. Mom would be coming home right about now and would find the letter I'd left her on the kitchen table. It hurt to leave like this, but I knew she wouldn't let me go if I asked. She didn't want me to know about my father, she didn't want me to see him. But I had to. I can't describe the need that was inside me as I sat in front of my computer staring at the picture of my father. It was an old picture, but it was him. A longing filled me then. A longing to see him for real, to let him know who I was and that I was part of him and that I wanted him to be part of me and my life.

I closed my eyes and turned away from the window. Guilt filled the pit of my stomach and I couldn't help but feel awful for the hurt I was going to cause my mother. She hadn't been anything but perfect to me and this was how I repaid her? It just wasn't right. But it had to be done. I pulled my backpack onto my lap and dug out the paper with his address on it. Already I had committed the street and number to memory, but it was comforting to just hold it in my hands and read it once more. _Corner of Fifth and Broadway_ the paper said, _Penthouse of New York Towers._ A penthouse apartment, I couldn't believe it. Do you know how much those things cost. That meant my father was loaded! Not that made any difference in how much I wanted to see him, or how I wanted him to accept me, but it _was_ awful cool.

A few hours later my plane landed in JFK and I disembarked. Immediately I was hit by the vastness of the city. It was nothing like my own small town. It was even bigger than Denver, the only real city I'd been to. People bumped me from every side and I clutched my bag tightly to keep someone from snatching it. I'd heard the rumors about tourists getting mugged in New York City, and most of that happened in the airport. Of course it was just rumors, but I was never one to take a chance.

It was difficult to navigate the maze of crowded hallways and corridors, but finally I found my way to baggage claim and pulled my two suitcases off the thingy that carries the luggage in a circle. Does anybody _really_ know what that thing's called? Anyway, I made my way out of the airport and searched for a taxi. There were tons going down the street, but none stopped for me. Looking around me, I saw that people were running out into the street trying to hail a cab.

_What an idiot, _I thought, watching one man stand in the street until the cab stopped, just inches from hitting him. I shook my head and waved my hand in the air. Two cabs passed me by, stopping just a few feet away from me to pick up some important looking business people. So that was the game they wanted to play? Well two could play that.

I turned on my heel and reentered the airport, this time searching out a bathroom in which I could change from my modest jeans and T-shirt into something that would catch attention. So it was a stupid idea, but hey, it got me a cab in thirty seconds flat. Thank god for miniskirts and mid-driff baring halter-tops. And I'll tell ya what, if I had any doubts about if I was pretty or not, the whistles and catcalls were enough to disband that idea.

So I got my cab and was on my way to my father's apartment. It was weird then, still is to be honest, to call someone father. After seventeen years I was used to not having a dad, but that was all going to change as soon as I knocked on his door. It didn't hit me till then, when I was standing at the door of his apartment building, that my whole life was going to change the second I knocked on his door. I wasn't going to be Samantha Carter who had a mom. I was going to be Samantha Carter who had a mom _and_ a dad. I could introduce myself as Ephram Brown's daughter and really truly mean it. It was so weird. But I still had to make him believe that I was his daughter, and that was going to be harder than it sounded.

And that brings us back to where my story started.

I took the elevator up to the penthouse, after doing a little flirting with the doorman to gain entrance. Trust me, that was the easy part. I was so nervous. My heart was pounding a mile a minute in my chest and I felt as if I would faint from lack of air at any second. I couldn't think straight. My mind was reeling with possibilities of how this would go. Would he accept me, turn me away, call the police and tell them he had a crazy hooker on his doorstep? I didn't know. And to be honest, I don't know if I wanted to.

The elevator stopped, and I swear so did my heart. Taking deep calming breathes, the kind they teach you in yoga class, I collected my thoughts and emotions and stepped off the elevator. There was one door in front of me. A big white one with a gold curved handle and gold edging. They spared no expense on this door I'm telling you. My hands were trembling as I raised a fist and knocked. For a second I thought he hadn't heard or that he wasn't at home, because he didn't answer the door. I knocked again. There was the sound of a piano slamming and loud cursing.

"Damn it!" he yelled, "Can't you bastards give me one moments peace?" the door swung open and there he was. I felt choked by my own emotions as I looked at him.

His face was gaunt, pale, and he had deep bags beneath his eyes. His eyes, they were so like mine that it was like looking in a mirror. Deep brown and soulful. It was what my mother said she most remembered about him. His eyes. The way they bore right into you, looking deep in your soul as if he could read what was going on inside of you. The stubborn point of his chin was like mine too, as was his full mouth and creamy, chocolate brown hair. But while mine reached down to mid-back, his was shaggy and rested jaggedly across his shoulders. He was clean-shaven, but there was a bit of stubble on his chin. He was thin, like he hadn't eaten a meal in days, and his clothes hung limply on him. It was like looking at a skeleton, the remains of the man he once was. Very depressing. But it was his hands that I noticed most. His hands were strong and slim. Surgeon's hands. Or those of a musician. I knew that they could touch the keys of a piano with the gentleness of a lover. That he could be soft and loving with the instrument, and care more about it than he did about himself. That's how it always is with people who are married to their work.

I loved those hands. Still do. And I love the man that's attached to them. But I'm getting ahead of myself.

"Who are you?" he asked, his voice rough, as if he hadn't used it in awhile. "I already paid your friend. I'm not lookin' to shell out another twenty grand for a cheap lay. Tell your friend it wasn't worth it and I never want to see her again." he moved to shut the door. I couldn't let him get away that easily. There was no way. Not after all I'd been through, not after betraying my mother's trust.

"I'm your daughter." I said, my voice more strong and confident than I felt. He stopped. His eyes traveled over me and I could feel the judgement in them when they met my own.

"Yeah right," he scoffed, "I don't have a daughter. And if I did, I certainly wouldn't allow her out of the house lookin' like that." He moved to shut the door once more. My mind was working in over time, and before I knew what I was doing, I'd stuck my foot in between the door and the wall.

"Please," I said my eyes pleading and my voice desperate, "Please, I know it's hard to believe, but I _am_ your daughter. I can prove it."

"Really?" he replied sarcastically, "Ok, I'll humor you. Prove to me that you're my daughter." He leaned against the doorframe and eyed me, waiting for me to make him believe my audacious idea. His arms were crossed in front of him defensively. It was a move to intimidate me, and it was working. Swallowing my fear I forced myself to draw myself up to my full height, an _impressive _5'6", and I stared him down.

"My mother is Madison Carter." I said. His eyes snapped open and he looked at me as if I were a ghost.

"That...that doesn't prove anything." he stuttered. But I could tell I planted a seed in his mind. After all, for all I looked like him, I looked like mom too. I had the same nose. Proud and dignified. And our eyes were the same shape. But it was my no nonsense personality that was most like her. My fire and spirit, as she liked to say, was all her doing.

"You could have come up with that name. It means nothing to me." He continued. I bit my lower lip, trying to gain control of that fiery spirit. Drawing in yet another calming breath, I released it slowly.

"Madison worked for your father, Dr. Andrew Brown, as a baby-sitter and house keeper while she attended college. She helped you pass your driver's test and she was the woman who took your virginity." I paused for breath. Mom had told me all this, but never told me the name of who she'd shared all these experiences with. And for once I was glad of all those little dazed looks she got, and that faraway voice, and the painful remembering when she talked to herself about her past with my father.

Ephram looked at me as if I'd grown a second head. I had told him about his past. A past which only he and my mother could have known about. His eyes were wide, frightened, and curious. So many emotions waged within his stare that for a second I thought he was going to pass out. His face drained of what color it held and his breathing became rapid. I made a mental note to teach him yoga breathing. If he accepted me that is.

"Come..." his voice was choked and strained. He cleared his throat. "Come in."

* * *

I want to thank everybody who bothered to read the first chapter of this. Y'all mean a lot. I hope you enjoyed this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it. Please tell me what you thought and if you'd like me to continue.

mo: You'll just have to keep reading and see if I make Ephram the "bad guy" or not. I make no garuntees though.

auggy1984: Stay tuned and see.

kursk: Maybe, maybe not. You'll have to keep reading to see ;)

freak4wb, lightstm00, couriro, C8-H10-N4-02, OTHlover04, and No One 001: Thank you all for taking the time to read and review. It means a lot.


	3. All alone

**Author's Note: **I just want to thank everyone who has reviewed this story so far. It means so much to be so accepted by you all. I'm glad you enjoy this and I hope you will continue to read as I continue to write. After all, what's a story without readers? Anyway, enough rambling. Here's the next chapter.

Chapter Three

The first thing that caught my eye when I stepped into the penthouse was a framed photo that hung above the mantel of the gas fireplace. There stood my father, dressed in a tux with his arm around a woman in a flowing white gown. From her cherry-red lips that were turned up in a sweet, exuberant smile, to her striking blue eyes, to her long, gold-blonde hair, everything about her screamed elegance and grace.

"What's her name?" I asked as my father shut the door. I looked at him over my shoulder. He scowled, the lines around his mouth deepening. He walked over to the mantel and took down the photo.

"It's not important." He snapped, putting the picture in the fire that burned gently in the fireplace (why he had a fire going in the middle of June don't ask me). The flames immediately sprang to life and soon there was nothing left of the woman but the blue eyes that stared out at me through the white-hot flames. Those eyes, they unnerved me. This woman, his ex-wife, had obviously meant something to him, why else would the sight of her picture be so painful for him?

Neither of us spoke as the flames danced over the picture. I took that opportunity to look at the rest of his apartment.

Everything was white. From the starched sofa that looked as if no one had ever sat in it, to the blinding counter tops that were polished to a perfect shine. The only bit of color in the whole place, or the living room at least, was a beautiful, black, Grand piano. It was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen. I walked over to it, entranced by its ivory and ebony keys. My fingers brushed against the ivory oh so gently, taking in the feel and the perfectly tuned sound. Composition paper was scattered over the top of the piano and some of it had slid off the smooth surface and onto the floor. I looked at the papers. There were eraser marks over every bit of the surface, but the bold notes stood out against the gray smudges. The notes wove over the paper in a dizzying dance of eighth notes and trills. Just looking at it I could tell it was going to be a masterpiece.

"What are you doing?" He yelled at me, snatching the papers from my hand. I winced as the paper sliced into my finger. Blood slid down my finger and I hurriedly stuck the injured finger in my mouth, sucking at the blood until I was certain it wouldn't fall onto the white carpet or piano.

"I just wanted to see what you were working on." I said. His eyes were blazing and I was cowed by his anger. How could somebody be so obsessive so as not to let people look at their work?

"This is not for you to look at." He snapped, turning away from me and picking up the papers that littered the floor. He stacked everything into one neat pile on top of the piano. "I don't let people look at my work."

"Why?" I asked. Oh I know I shouldn't have said anything, but damn he was touchy, and I'm one of those people who like to push other people's buttons.

"Because." He said, his voice dangerously low. It was a warning. I knew that. But I was never one to adhere to warnings.

"That's _not_ an answer." I said, placing a hand on my hip and narrowing my eyes at him. It was the stance that mom always took when she wanted to get something out of me and I wasn't answering her. I had labeled it the Intimidator, because that's exactly what it did when mom wanted to get people to do stuff for her.

"You stupid bitch!" He yelled, turning back to face me. His face was red with rage and his eyes were practically popping out of his head. "I let you into my house and you act like this." He swore loudly. I'm telling you, he would have made a sailor proud. "I want you out NOW." He grabbed my arm and literally dragged me to the door and pushed me out, hard. "I don't care who you are." He snapped at me, "I never want to see you again." and with that the door was slammed in my face.

"Bastard!" I screamed at the closed door, kicking it so hard that my big toe started to throb. I was practically seething and I swear smoke was probably coming out of my ears. Who did he think he was throwing me out, and all because I had asked a silly little question? At least now I knew where I got my temper.

My temper is famous you know. Mom used to say that I should have been born a redhead because I have such a short fuse. But I have friends who have red hair and they don't have short fuses. But look at me, I'm getting away from the story.

I rode the elevator down to the lobby. I had left my bags with the receptionist, a perverted punk with greasy blonde hair and acne. This was obviously an after-school job for him. He leered at me when I approached him, and a shiver ran up my spine as his eyes traveled over my body.

"That was a quick visit." He sneered, his eyes glued to my breasts.

"Excuse me," I said with mocking sweetness, "but my eyes are up here." I pointed to my face. The perv didn't even have the sense to blush or apologize. He didn't even move his eyes. I sighed. "Can I just have my bags?" I asked.

"Sure," he replied, turning around to grab my bags. That was easy, too easy. He stopped and turned back around. "But first you gotta do something for me sweetheart." He leered. Damn, I knew it'd been too easy.

"Yeah right." I said looking at him with disgust.

"Come on baby," he said, reaching out for the hand I had placed on top of the counter, "bring that sweet ass over here." I pulled away before his revolting, sweaty hand could touch me.

"I don't think so." I snapped. God I was tired of this. "Just give me my bags." You know I knew I shouldn't have left my bags with the son-of-a-bitch.

"Have it your way then." He smirked, not phased by my rejection. "I'll just have to tell security that you seduced me, took the keys to the vault, and then stole poor Mrs. Silverman's priceless ruby necklace." This guy really was trying my nerves. I wanted to sucker punch him so badly that my hand was literally trembling.

"You know what," I snapped, "keep the damn bags. I'll be back for them later, and when I do get them back I better not see anything disturbed. And I mean _anything._" I warned him. He smirked. I turned away with a growl and stalked out of the building.

* * *

To say the least it was quite terrifying being all alone in New York City. I mean, I didn't have anywhere to go and I didn't know a single person. What was I gonna do?

Thankfully I had taken my backpack up to Ephram's apartment with me, and that had all of my money. So, as far as financially, I was pretty set, but where was I going to stay?

I wandered around for awhile and soon found myself in Central Park. I'd heard stories about how beautiful Central Park was, but when I saw it for myself I was blown away. The trees and flowers, everything was so breathtaking that it was all I could do not to let my mouth hang open. I walked down one of the many paths, the trees making a shady canopy over my head, wondering about what I was going to do. There was no way I was going to sleep in the park, sure it was beautiful during the day, but who knew what lurked around at night. And besides, with as many times as I had been propositioned on my walk to the park I wasn't about to stay around when it was dark and nobody was around. I wasn't stupid.

My feet grew tired after about an hour of walking around, so I sat down on a bench and watched one of the many fountains housed in the park. Placing my backpack securely between my feet I sat back and sighed. The sun would be setting soon and I still had not come up with an answer to my problem. Already the park was beginning to empty. Moms were leaving with their children, couples were strolling by hand-in-hand, and people were filing away from the chessboards that sat opposite the fountain.

A cool wind blew through the trees, rustling the leaves ever so slightly. Goosebumps rose on my bare legs and I shivered. Looking around I found myself completely alone. There was nobody around, no sounds other than the splashing of the fountain and the rustling of the leaves. There was a sudden sound off to my left side. A familiar sound, like wheels on pavement. Skateboards. Before I knew it a group of skaters around my age were grinding across the benches and the ledge of the fountain.

They hadn't seen me yet, but I watched them closely. They were doing ollies and tailflips and all manner of tricks. God how I wished I had my board with me. I would have joined them in a heartbeat, gliding across the pavement, jumping up and grinding across the benches. To be free and flying through the air as you stick the landing and then skating off to do it again. Oh it would be heaven after the hellish day I had.

While lost in my own daydream, one of them spotted me. He skated over, jumped up his board, kicked it up into his hand, then put one foot up on the seat of the bench and leaned on his knee.

"What's a pretty thing like you doin' here all alone?" he asked, his eyes sweeping over my body.

"I was just leaving." I said, not in the mood for more of New York's perversion. I stood and he was instantly at my side.

"Come on babe," he growled, grabbing my arm and pulling me into him. I put my arms in front of me to stop myself from falling into his chest, and I was met by the brick wall that was him. His hand rested just above my elbow, his touch rough and hot against my chilled skin. "Don't ya wanna party with me?"

"No." I said. My anger was rising and all reasonable thinking was slowly seeping out of my mind. All I could think of was getting away from this jerk. I pushed against him, but my weak muscles were nothing compared to his bulging biceps. The guy obviously worked out.

"Don't be like that baby," he purred. His face was lowering towards mine. Damn, how was I going to get out of this one?

"Let me go," my voice was low and gravely. I wasn't able to think. All that was in my mind was that I had to get away, I had to get far away. I cast a look around, searching for a friendly face among the skaters that were slowly creeping towards us. They all had the exact same look in their eyes as my captor did. Damn, I was in major trouble.

My heart was pounding against my ribs so hard I thought my ribs would break. I couldn't breathe, couldn't think. My mind and body were both frozen in place.

His mouth descended on mine and I choked back a gag as his tongue slid through my lips. It was completely disgusting and I thought I was going to puke. I pushed even harder against him, trying to break free, but I couldn't. Then it hit me; I knew exactly what to do.

Quick as I could, before his hands could reach my breasts, which was where they were inching to, I brought my knee up and hit him straight between the legs. He let me go with a gasp of pain and I grabbed my bag and started running as fast as my high-heeled boots would let me.

I heard them coming after me, their wheels grating against the pavement. They would reach me soon and when they did they wouldn't let me off easily. I ran and ran, my lungs burned and my hip was sore from where my bag kept hitting. But I wasn't about to stop. Fate had a different plan for me though.

Before I knew it my heel got caught in a crack and I pitched forward. I hadn't seen before that someone was heading towards me, but I did feel when I collided with them, bringing them to the ground and falling right on top of them.

My eyes were closed when I landed, and when I opened them I was staring down into the most beautiful green eyes I had ever seen.

* * *

Don't you just _love_ cliffhangers? Lol. I hope you all enjoyed this chapter and will review.

annonymous: Thanks for telling me the real color of Ephram's eyes. I'll fix that eventually.

Katie: All questions will be answered eventually, though I did already answer your question about Amy.

colorado2: To be honest I don't know who Ephram is gonna end up with yet.

Kursk and alanluvmax: Thank you both for telling me Madison's last name. I'll fix that when I get the chance.

muse-of-the-fairies, Nadeshiko Black, Annonymous, BluDevlGrl, OthfanAnna, C, Shelby, Bchgrl04, C8-H10-N4-02, hayley kelsch, Nautica7mk, auggy1984, priscilla, Kerry, Kelly, sportygal71188, OTHlover04, and No One 001: Thank you all so much for reviewing this story. It means so much to me to know that you like what I write. Please keep reading and reviewing.


	4. Troy

Sorry it took so long to update. I apologize sincerely and hope that you all enjoy this chapter you have waited so long and patiently for.

Chapter Four

I lay there, on top of a guy, who was probably around my age, paralyzed. I just stared into his eyes for what seemed like eternity. You would too if you saw how beautiful his eyes were, like twin emeralds. As you can probably guess, I'm an eye girl. Eyes are what I first notice about a person and what draws me into a guy.

My hair was a curtain around our faces, my hands on either side of his head, and his hands rested just above my elbows, as if he had been trying to catch me. They felt good, his hands. Rough and calloused from work, but they were gentle and warm on my skin.

"I am so sorry," I said, pushing myself up off him and standing up. He stood up as well and I found myself staring straight at his broad chest. Be still my heart.

"It's ok." he said, a small smirk working its way up his chiseled jaw. "I'm used to girls falling all over me." Any other guy would have made the sentence sound egotistical, but not him, not this god, this Adonis. I could believe it, that girls would fall all over him. He was perfect what with his evenly tanned skin and sandy blonde hair, and that smile…definitely swoon worthy.

He laughed softly, a rumbling laugh that spilled over his lips with ease. I couldn't help but laugh with him, completely forgetting the skaters that were chasing me.

"I'm Troy," he said, holding out a strong hand towards me, "Troy Devins."

"Samantha Kellner," I replied, shaking his hand. His grip was strong and his handshake even stronger.

"It's a pleasure to meet you Samantha," he said, bowing over my hand and kissing it gently. His lips brushed the back of my hand like a breath of air. I blushed, oh come on, you know you would too.

I looked down at my feet, hoping my hair would hide my reddened cheeks, and that's when I saw it, the skateboard that rested not far from his own feet. He was one of them! My eyes flew back up to meet his. He looked so nice, so kind. Maybe I had made a mistake. Just cause he had a skateboard didn't mean he was friends with the guys who had been after me. Yes, I was jumping to conclusions.

"Looks like T here bagged the prize," I jumped at the voice and my head whipped around to see the skater that had grabbed me. Okay, so I hadn't been jumping to conclusions. I felt Troy's hand warm around my own, and quickly let go of him. I didn't want anymore physical contact than was necessary. He looked at me, slightly shocked. His eyes searched mine, questioning why I had dropped my hand so quickly. He recovered quickly though.

"Hey Kyle," Troy said. The two high-fived as the rest of the skaters arrived. I was surrounded once more, damn it. I should have been formulating a plan, figuring out a way to get out of this, but my mind was still reeling over Troy. How could somebody who seemed so charming be friends with guys who are, well, less than charming?

"You know I was gonna claim the bitch for myself," Kyle said, dropping an arm around Troy's shoulders and surveying me with cold, calculating eyes, "but seeing as you managed to catch her, she's all yours." Troy looked from his friend to me. His eyes were wide and his mouth slightly agape. I stared right back at him, my gaze defiant. I was not gonna just lay on my back and let him take me, though the thought was kinda tempting. No, I shook my head to shake the traitorous thoughts from my mind.

"Umm," were the ever so intelligent words that came from Troy's mouth. He looked at me uncertainly. I kinda felt all warm inside at the thought that he wasn't at all like his friends. He obviously didn't want to make me do something that I did not want to do and I appreciated that, but how was he going to get us both out of this mess? I hoped and prayed that he was a quick thinker and could formulate a plan.

"Okay." he said after a long pause. He took my arm. I struggled against him at first, but the small, conspiring wink he gave me told me he was just trying to help me get away. I barely had time to register that information when his lips descended on my own. I gasped slightly, clearly surprised, but then I allowed myself to melt into the kiss.

His lips were soft and they moved against my own with tremendous skill. He had _obviously_ done this before. I felt his hands slide over my body, tracing every curve. My body was on fire as his tongue slowly slid through my slightly parted lips. Then I realized that I was supposed to be putting up a fight. Immediately the heady feelings that blanketed my mind were yanked away and I pushed against Troy roughly. He let me push him and we stood there, staring at each other, our breathing labored. The cheers and jeers that filled the air around us quickly brought us back to our senses.

Troy fell easily back into the role of the bad guy.

"I'll see you fellas later." he smirked at the group, grabbing my arm once more and pulling my paralyzed body away from the crowd.

"Thank you." I said, once we reached the entrance to the park.

"Not a problem." he smiled down at me. I felt my insides turn to mush. Those lips, lord I wanted to kiss them so badly.

"Well, I should go." I said reluctantly and taking a few steps away from him.

"I could walk you home." he said hastily. I turned back around to face him.

"Thanks, but I don't know where I'm staying tonight." I had to admit that I was bumming. I really wanted Troy to walk me home, but Colorado was a really far way to walk.

"So…you need a place to stay?" he asked.

"Yeah." I said, "I mean I was gonna stay with my dad, but he kinda kicked me out." Hey, no need to bore him with all the details.

"I know somewhere where you can stay." he ran a hand through his slightly tosseled hair self-consciously.

"Really?" Pointless to get my hopes up, but hey, when a girl needs a place to stay a girl _needs_ a place to stay.

"Yeah, it's not too far away."

"Ok, cool."

>>>>>

The hotel was in a less developed area of New York City, and had none of the gleam and polish of my father's Manhattan apartment building. Instead the awning over the front doors was faded and had a small tear in one corner, and graffiti covered one side of the building.

"It's not much," Troy said, holding the door of the hotel open for me, "but it's home."

"You live here?" I asked. The place wasn't really that bad looking on the inside. It was plain and homey, just the kinda place that suited me.

"Yeah," he said, "my sister and her husband own the place."

"Wow that's so cool." I said. He shrugged.

"I suppose." he replied. We stood there in the lobby in silence for a little while. Then Troy hit his palm against his forehead.

"I'm so retarded," he said, "I completely forgot to ask if you had any bags to bring over here. So do you?"

"Yeah um…" I paused, "they're kinda being held hostage right now." At the confused look in his eyes I added, "It's a long story."

"Okay." he laughed a little awkwardly. "Look about that kiss," he said. My eyes flew up to his expectantly. "I um…" he ran a hand through his hair uncomfortably.

"You were just helping me out." I said, smiling up at him gently. I wanted to make him feel at ease with me, but I could not deny that I also wanted a repeat of that kiss. My head was _still_ reeling from it and my lips were still tingling from the contact with his.

"Yeah." he said, smiling at me gratefully. I couldn't help the blush that I felt creeping up my face.

"So," Troy said suddenly, "let me show you to your room."

>>>>>

I have to admit that when I woke the next morning I was slightly disoriented, and the fact that I woke up in nothing but my underwear and halter top gave me extra cause to worry. Then I remembered the events of the day before. The shouting match with my father, the park, my encounter with the skaters, and Troy. It all came flooding back in one big wave. I was just climbing out of bed and pulling my skirt on when there was a knock on the door.

"Who is it?" I called, zipping my skirt.

"It's Troy." his voice was husky with sleep and it sent shivers down my spine. I walked over to the door and opened it, praying that my hair wasn't too much of a bird's nest.

"Morning." I greeted him with a smile, wishing that I had a toothbrush and toothpaste so that I didn't have to greet him with morning breath. Very un-sexy.

"Morning." he replied grinning sheepishly, "Um…I brought you some breakfast." All of a sudden he produced a tray from a cart that was behind him.

"Thanks." I said, giving him my best flirtatious grin. He blushed slightly and looked down at his feet.

_The girl's still got it, _I thought as I watched him shift from one foot to the other.

"Um…I was thinking that if you wanted I could come with you and help you get your bags." he said, bringing me out of my thoughts. Last night, on the way to his sister's hotel, I had told Troy all about what happened with my bags.

"That'd be great." I replied.

"Okay," he said, "I'll come back in about an hour and we'll go."

>>>>>

"Back again sweetness?" the same guy was behind the desk in the lobby, "Couldn't get enough of me could ya?"

"I'm here for my bags." I said. Today I was _not_ going to put up with his crap. Today I was going to be assertive and get what I came for. Of course it would help that Troy was there backing me up.

"I don't know…" the guy said, his eyes taking in my body. I shivered involuntarily. Troy touched my arm gently and looked down at me, signaling with his eyes for me to move aside.

"The lady asked for her bags." Troy said stepping up to the desk. "Now she might be nice about it, but I assure you, I won't be." His eyes flashed like steel and the guy behind the desk started to sweat.

"I could have security escort you out." he sputtered, looking around the lobby fearfully. Troy stepped closer to the desk and looked the guy in the eye.

"Just try." he said, his voice low in warning. The guy reached under his desk, his eyes never leaving Troy and threw my two bags up on the counter one after another. Troy took them.

"Thank you." he said, suddenly turning into the sweet, boy next door.

>>>>>

Well I hope y'all liked this chapter and will review. Again I apologize for how long it took me to update and I hope that it will not happen again.

PS. Sorry it was so short.

PPS: Many of you made comments about Ephram being such a jerk to Sam. I assure you that I meant for him to come off like that. The reasons will make themselves known in later chapters.

Borg: There is an old saying that those who can, do, and those who can't, teach. Well I have a saying of my own. Those who can, write, and those who can't, flame. I hope you will think twice before sending out another flame as it wastes the time of the writer and your own time as well.

Mike Rules 2003, Crazyrussiangal, Kursk, Annonymous, Martina G, shaterika, volleyballlover, Ashely, colorado2, libby, Nautica7mk, OTHlover04, muse-of-the-fairies, C8-H10-N4-02, sportygal71188, whoopiepiez, and auggy1984: I want to thank you all for reviewing and telling me your honests opinions of this story. I hope you will continue to review as this story progresses. Thank you.


	5. Heart felt talks and tickelish spots

Oh my gosh, I never meant to take such a long break from this story! I apologize profusely you guys. I got a visit from that pesky ole' writer's block and you know how it is when he visits. It's like a relative that won't leave. Lol. Anyways, I apologize and hope that you all will forgive me.

Chapter Five

Fresh out of the shower and dressed in a pair of comfortable jeans and a long sleeved pink T-shirt, I was feeling considerably better. It felt good to be out of those very formfitting clothes and have a little coverage, not to mention breathing room.

As I ran a brush through my hair to get out all of the tangles from the previous night, there was a knock on my door. Quickly, I pulled my hair up into a ponytail and went to answer the door.

"Hey," I greeted Troy with a smile.

"You look better." He smirked, looking me up and down. I felt my face grow hot under his gaze.

"I feel better." I replied. He smiled and nodded.

"I bet."

We stood in silence for awhile, me leaning against the open door, him standing in the doorway with his hands jammed in the pockets of his khakis.

"So…" I said, trying to break the slightly uncomfortable silence.

"Yeah um…" he rubbed the back of his head, "I was wondering if you would like a tour of New York. You know, get the official tour of all the places us natives hang at."

"That sounds great." I smiled, "Just let me get a few things and I'll meet you in the lobby."

"Okay."

* * *

The sun was warm, the city was alive, and I was one of the happiest girls on earth, being shown New York by a true Manhattanite. 

Already we had visited China Town, where we ate a lunch of pan-fried noodles and something that I couldn't quite identify, but it was good. Imagine my surprise when Troy wouldn't let me so much as pay for the drinks we had. I mean, what a gentleman. He even opened the door to the restaurant for me! And we had seen just about every other weird little place that only those native to the city knew about.

The day was winding down and I still hadn't asked Troy the question that had been on my mind since I woke up that morning.

We were sitting in Washington Square Park, watching the people that were gathered around the chess tables, and munching on a soft pretzel we had gotten from a street vender.

"You're awfully quiet." Troy said, his hand brushing against mine as he took a piece off the pretzel I held. A surge of warmth flooded my body at his touch and I smiled at him coyly.

"I'm not really a very talkative person." I responded. He shot me a look that told me he knew I was lying.

"I have known you not even twenty-four hours and I know already that you are _not_ a quiet person." He teased. "So, what's on your mind?" I sighed, I guess I had to ask him.

"I was just thinking," I said, leaning back against the bench and crossing my feet in front of me. "Why are you friends with those guys?" He looked at me with a kinda blank expression. "You know, the skater guys that were in Central Park yesterday, the ones that were chasing me."

"Oh, you mean Kyle and all them." He looked at the chess tables for a second, biting his lip. It was kinda cute the way he did that.

"I don't know," he said after a moment of silence, "I guess because we were friends way back in elementary school and always been interested in the same things and stuff. I don't really agree with everything they do, but we've all been through a lot together." He looked at me out of the corner of his eye. "If it helps any, I don't really hang out with them as much as I used to. We just get together every once in awhile to skate and hang out."

"It helps," I said smiling at him. He smiled back.

* * *

Laughing so hard that we could barely breathe, Troy and I stumbled into the empty lobby of the hotel. 

"Did you see the hat she was wearing?" I gasped between laughs.

"I know, it's like she was a giant ostrich." Troy laughed. I shook my head and tried to stop laughing. I really needed to breathe. Pulling in a large gulp of air, I slowly calmed down and wiped the tears from my eyes.

"Oh my god," I said, my laughing finally under control, "I haven't laughed that hard in like…a long time."

"Well I'm glad I could be of service." Troy grinned. I rolled my eyes at him and he crossed his eyes in response, causing the two of us to break out in giggles again.

"What's so funny out here?" A tall, slim woman in her late twenties walked into the lobby. She had golden blonde hair, long slim legs, deep blue eyes, and a body that would make a model jealous. Her lips were upturned in a pleasant smile and I felt at ease in her presence.

"Sam and I were just discussing some of the um…sites we saw today." Troy said to the woman.

"Oh, so this is Sam." The way she said my name was kinda funny, not to mention how she looked me over. She'd obviously heard something about me, and I wanted to know what.

"Um Sam, this is my sister Lisa." Troy's face had reddened slightly and he was rubbing a hand across the back of his neck and shifting from one foot to the other.

"It's nice to meet you." I said to Lisa, holding out my hand. She took it in one of her slim, manicured ones and we shook.

"Nice to meet you too Sam, Troy has told me quite a bit about you." She smiled. I looked at Troy, his face was quickly turning into a tomato. So, he'd told his sister about me, did that mean that he liked me? Now I'm not conceited or arrogant or anything like that, but when a guy talks about you to his sister doesn't that mean he usually likes you?

My heart kinda did a little back flip right then and I felt my own face redden.

"Oh, he has?" I said, finding my shoes suddenly very fascinating. Lisa gave a light laugh.

"I can see I'm embarrassing you both." She said, "So I'll just go back into my office and let you two alone." The sound of her stilettos was muffled by the thick carpeting that covered the floor as she made her way back into her office.

Troy and I stood in silence, neither of us looking at the other.

"So," I said, my voice echoing in then silence, "what'd you tell your sister about me?"

"Nothing." Troy said quickly. I gave him a look.

Mom always said that I was one of those rare people that whenever they looked you straight in the eye you just had to tell them the truth. She said she hated whenever she lied to me, because I would just fix her with one of those stares and she would _have_ to tell me the truth.

"Alright," he said, looking down at his feet and watching them trace patterns in the rug. "Alright, so maybe I told her that I thought you were…you know, pretty, and funny, and that you weren't too bad at kissing." I blushed. Wouldn't you if a guy, a drop dead gorgeous guy, said that you were a good kisser and that he thought you were pretty? Hell yeah.

"You're not that bad of a kisser either," I said with a teasing smile, "And you're not too hard on the eyes." I couldn't believe it, I was _flirting_! I mean, I like _never_ flirted. I've always been one of those girls that hung out more with the guys than the girls, so what use did I have for flirting? But here I was, my head cocked to the side, eyeing the guy I liked with one of those vixenish (he he, I made up a new word) kinda stares, and telling him that I thought he was cute. I must have lost my mind!

"Oh really?" He looked at me and winked. I shook my head and laughed.

"Yeah really," I said, "just don't get a big head over it."

"I make no guarantees." he smirked. I slapped his arm playfully.

"Hey!" he cried.

"Oh come on that didn't hurt."

"Maybe it did." he pouted, sticking his bottom lip out far. I can't tell you how kissable he looked right then with that pitiful puppy dog look on his face.

"You're such a baby." I rolled my eyes.

"Am not."

"Are too."

"Am not."

"Are…wait a sec, this is so stupid." I shook my head. I hadn't gotten into an "Am Not, Are Too" fight since fifth grade.

"I'll stop if you admit that I'm not a baby." Troy said.

"What? That's retarded. I am not going to agree with you just to stop this stupid little 'fight'" I argued.

"Oh you won't huh?" He got an evil glint in his eye. I knew that look. I had seen it all too many times on my friends back home. That was the I'm-gonna-pick-you-up-and-throw-you-in-the-pool look. Except there was no pool around here and, unlike in those cases, I did want him to pick me up.

"Oh no you don't," I took a few steps away from him as he slowly advanced, "you're not gonna get me."

"I beg to differ on that point." he said.

"You do, do you?"

"Yes I do." And with that he launched himself at me, tackling me to the ground, and tickling, yes tickling, me. I screamed with laughter as his fingers caught my most ticklish spot on my stomach. Troy had straddled my waist then, keeping me pinned to the floor as his hands snaked up under my shirt to better reach the ticklish skin. And then it caught me. Here was a damn gorgeous guy straddling me, with his hands _up _my shirt. I immediately stopped laughing. The same thing seemed to have occurred to Troy as he stopped laughing as soon as I did. We just stayed there, me laying on the floor, him bending over me, our eyes locked in an intense stare. I didn't know what was gonna happen. I mean I kinda knew, like since this is one of the big kiss scenes that happens in movies and stuff, but I didn't know if that was gonna happen to me or not.

I guess it was, because before I knew it, his lips were inches from my own, then they were directly on top of mine. His lips were just as soft as I remembered and I moaned lightly beneath the pressure they placed on my mouth. There was no denying his experience. This guy must have been a kissing god. I was melting under his touch, completely paralyzed. His hands moved across my stomach as our lips moved against each other, and my own hands had somehow found their way to Troy's sculpted back. I was becoming dizzy as his hands slid further up my stomach, stopping just below my bra. I knew he wouldn't push unless I wanted him to. I'm not into premarital sex, but for him, I would have gladly compromised my morals.

That thought brought me crashing back to earth. The euphoria that I had been experiencing came to a crashing halt, and I pushed Troy away gently. His eyes flew open and he stared at me guiltily.

"Sam I didn'…I mean I didn't mean for this…I didn't know this was gonna…I'm sorry." He stuttered as he stood up quickly.

"Sorry for what?" I looked at him quizzically. "I wanted you to kiss me." His body relaxed and sighed in relief.

"Thank god," he muttered, "I want you to know that I would never push you to do something that you didn't want to do." I smiled at him sweetly and he offered his hand to help me up off the floor.

"I know." I said. He smiled and gave me another charmingly teasing smile.

"So does this mean you might wanna go out to dinner with me sometime?"

I placed my index finger on my chin and pretended to think.

"I don't know," I said, "I might need a little more incentive." He grinned and leaned down to capture my lips once more.

* * *

So I realize that the relationship between Sam and Troy is happening kinda fast, but the first few chapters are gonna be kind of a quicker pace so that I can move more swiftly into the main part of the story. Also, I've noticed that I'm turning this into a soap opera kinda story. I apologize for that. It will be fixed as the story gets more involved.I hope that you all enjoyed this chapter and will review and, once again, I apologize for how long it took me to review. 

**shaterika**: You gave me so many reviews, all of them indepth about this story, and for that I thank you. I like it when people can give me real criticism as it helps me to improve upon my work I am very happy to see that Madison will be returning for a short while as I am very curious to see what has happened with her and Ephram's child. I must admit that it was the trailers for next week's episode that prompted me to update this story. I agree that the skater dudes cheering Troy on was a bit over the top, I apologize for that. Things in later chapters won't be so melodramatic, you have my word. The rest of Everwood'scast will be making appereances later on in this story. Samantha will soon make a trip out to Everwood and you will see how life has changed there. It's funny that you should mention the fact that when you imagine Troy you picture Jesse McCartney. He, or rather his character Bradin on Summerland, was the person who prompted Troy's character. I also want to thank you for sticking up for me against Borg (the person who keeps flaming this story), it was very nice of you. So, once again, thank you for sending me many long and critical reviews and thank you for sticking around to continue reading this story.

**auggy1984**: Madison just might be making another appereance in this story. I still have to decide whether or not I want her to return and how I want her to return. Thank you for reviewing and I hope that you will continue to read this story.

**colorado2** and **sportygal71188**: Thank you both very much for reviewing this story. It means a lot that people would take the time to read and review this.


	6. Inside the mind of a tortured genius

This chapter is a repost since many people corrected me on what Ephram's mother's name was. Thanks to all of you who corrected me.

Chapter Six - **Ephram's POV **

A daughter. I had a daughter. Madison and I had had a daughter. Needless to say I was in shock over the revelation. When she stood there, in my door, I couldn't _not_ believe her. She looked so much like me. From her hair to her eyes, from the shape of her mouth to the stubborn jut of her chin. She was me. But for all her looks, she had Madison deep inside of her. I could see it in the way her eyes sparked, that fiery spirit that had first caused me to fall in love with Madison. I…we had had a daughter.

Moments after I so graciously showed her the door, I sat at my piano. The tears were in my eyes before I even had time to feel any emotion. A war raged within me, my emotions battling with each other to be the dominate one that I felt. Anger, confusion, joy, but most of all, sadness.

I looked up above the mantle that hung over the fireplace, searching for the comforting face that usually smiled down at me. The wall there was bare, white and bleak. And I remembered. The photograph was gone, burned to a crisp. The gilded edge of the frame still sat in the fire, slightly charred, but ultimately whole. The tears started anew. I had destroyed the one thing that meant more to me than even my piano.

Amy had left me not even two years ago, but the pain I felt at her going still reigned over my heart. I hadn't quite fully healed, and I didn't think that I ever would. We'd had a daughter, me and Amy, and we loved her to death. She was our pride and joy. So much like her mother in both looks and spirit. I remember how she used to dance around the apartment in her little pink tutu laughing and singing at the top of her lungs. The memory still makes me smile. She loved life so much and would never stop talking. She even used to talk with the pigeons that had made a home on her windowsill. I remember she named them too, Coo and Featherhead and George. She was only five when she died.

Amy had been feeling domestic that morning and had made eggs and French toast and sausage. I remember she said that Julia, our daughter, needed a good hearty breakfast on her first day of kindergarten. I wrapped my arms around my wife's waist and kissed her neck, Laura came in the kitchen and made a giggled. She always giggled when Amy and I were kissing, which we did a lot. "Have fun", those were the last words I said to our daughter. I told her I loved her and to have fun on her first day. She had smiled at me with that cute little gapped tooth grin and said that she would, then she hugged me and kissed me on the cheek and followed Amy out the door.

I was working on a new piece when the phone rang. Amy was in Julia's room straitening up the mess she'd made while trying to get dressed by herself, you know, trying to be a "big girl". I answered on the second ring, and I remember the woman on the other end saying that there had been an accident, but everything after that is a blur.

We rushed down to the hospital where they sent Julia, it wasn't but ten block from our apartment, the same hospital that my father, Andy Brown, had once been a surgeon at. Those ten blocks seemed like a million as Amy and I raced through the crowds that littered the New York streets. We were in too much of a hurry to wait for a cab, not to mention it would have taken longer to drive through the traffic than to walk, or run, which was what we did. People looked at us as if we were crazy lunatics, but we didn't care. Our only thoughts were on our little girl, the joy of our hearts.

She was so fragile looking, laying there on that cold slab of metal, with nothing but a thin, starched white sheet to cover her. Her face was badly bruised and her small body bent and broken. The doctors said she didn't suffer when the car hit her. I gave a weak, tear strained, mirthless chuckle at the irony. My mother, her namesake, had died at the hands of a vehicle collision, now the same fate had taken my daughter. Life was cruel.

After Julia's death I threw myself into my work, never leaving the piano for days at a time. I buried myself in music, trying to dull the pain that rested inside of my soul. My way of dealing with the grief put a strain on my marriage and, before I knew it, Amy was asking for a divorce. She said that she had suffered enough losing her daughter that she wouldn't watch her husband fade away as well. I didn't even fight, didn't even try to keep my marriage together. I just let her have what she wanted, I let her take whatever she wanted from me without so much as a fuss. She didn't want much, not really, just everything that had once been Julia's and enough money to start a new life back with her family in Everwood, Colorado.

So now I had nothing of my daughter's, and I had burned the last remnant that I had ever been married in the first place. I pounded my fists against the ivory keys, the sound clashing loudly in the apartment. I wiped a hand over my face, wiping away the tears that continued to fall.

I had thought that I had no more family, but I had been wrong. My mind went back to two hours ago. She said her name was Samantha. She was a beautiful girl, and I knew that she was probably really nice. But I was mean, overruled by my anger towards Madison for never telling me, and the acute pain that still ruled me, I had been nothing less than a monster to her. Screaming and yelling at her, kicking her out and calling her a bitch. I shook my head. It had finally happened, the thing that I feared would always be, the lose of two of the people I loved most in the world had turned me into a beast, a person unworthy of having any human contact.

Without knowing what I was doing, I suddenly found myself holding the phone in my hand. I had to talk to Madison, I had to ask why she'd never told me about our daughter. But I didn't know her phone number, I didn't know where she was, I didn't anything about her life now. So, I Googled her. I logged onto the internet and I looked her up. She lived in Denver. She and Samantha had been so close to me. All those visits I made to my family over the years I could have gone and seen them both, I could have been there for our daughter. Had I known she was pregnant before she left I would have convinced Madison to stay in Everwood, I would have convinced her that I would take care of her and our baby. But she had left, and she hadn't told me.

I picked the phone up once more, this time actually dialing. The voice on the other end was chipper and all too cheerful. I booked a ticket to Denver. In three days I would be going to see Madison and learn the truth.

* * *

Many of you were wondering why Ephram had been such a jerk to Samantha, well I decided to write this chapter and answer your questions. I hope you all enjoyed it, even though it was kinda short, and will review. 


	7. Mommy and Daddy are fighting again

I am sorry about how long it took me to update this story. I was stuck on where to take this chapter and all that other crap and I just couldn't get it started. Everwood is coming back on Monday night (yippee!) and we will all finally learn what happened to Madison and Ephram's baby. The thought that Everwood would soon be back on kinda prompted me to get my butt in gear and work on this story. I'm hoping that the next chapter won't take so long to get out, but I make no promises. One way to insure that I will work harder to get the next chapter out is to review, review, review. Lol.

I want to say thanks to all of my lovely reviewers for helping to get this story over _100 reviews_! You guys rock!

Enough babbling now, here is the next chapter.

Chapter Seven

As much as I was enjoying my time in New York with Troy, I couldn't help but feel guilty about leaving my mother. It had been four days since I ran away to find my father, and I had yet to call her and assure her that I was alright. I had picked the phone up numerous times to call her, but every time I did I was flooded with guilt and shame. I couldn't just call her and tell her that I was fine, no, I had to go home. As much as I enjoyed being with Troy, not to mention kissing him, I knew that it was time to go home. I hadn't gotten what I wanted in New York and it was time to return to my mom, to see if I could reconcile with her.

"I don't want you to go." Troy said as he watched me pack my bags. He sat on the end of the bed, his eyes following every one of my movements.

"I don't want to go," I said, meeting his eyes, "but my mom is probably worried sick and there's nothing left for me here."

"I'm here." Troy stood and took the shirt that I was folding my hands, "Stay with me Sam, I've only just found you, I can't lose you now." Tears welled in my eyes and I hugged Troy tightly.

"This isn't forever." I whispered, "I'll be back. I promise."

* * *

Mom met me at the airport. She rushed towards me as soon as I passed security, and enveloped me in a backbreaking hug. I hugged her back, the tears that I had been holding in flooding out of my eyes as we stood there holding each other. Finally, we pulled apart. 

"Don't you ever do that to me again young lady." Mom cried, "You scared me to death when you left and then I never heard from you. I thought you were dead."

"I'm sorry mom." I replied, my eyes dropping to the floor. "But this was something that I had to do. I had to go see my father for myself."

"And?" I knew she didn't really want to hear about my father, I knew she wanted nothing to do with him and the life that she had once had with him. Yet, at the same time, I knew she was dying to hear what news I had of him.

"He was a jerk Mom," I said. I'd never been able to lie to mom before, and now was not an exception. I bit my lip, keeping back the tears that were now filling my eyes, "You were smart not to have contact with him, and I…and I should have listened to you and never gone to see him in the first place."

She pulled me tightly against her, holding me as I cried out my frustration over the past few days.

* * *

Two days I'd been home. Mom tried to act as if I'd never even left, but there was a silence between us, one that was uncomfortable and reminded us of my running away. We danced around each other, neither of us saying anything that would make the other upset. We were like strangers, neither of us knowing what to say or do, both of us wanting to bridge that gap that was now between us, but neither of us knowing how. 

I was sitting on the back porch, lounging on a beach chair, soaking in the warm rays of sunlight and reading a book. Mom was out at work, and wouldn't be home for another couple of hours. The back door was open so that I could hear the phone if it rang, Mom had yet to invest in a cordless. The doorbell rang, startling me slightly. I wasn't expecting anybody, seeing as how all my friends were away on vacation, and I was pretty certain that we didn't have any packages coming in.

Getting off the lounge chair, I made my way inside the house and towards the door. I opened it and took a step back, all ability to speak leaving me instantly.

"Hello Samantha."

* * *

We sat in silence, the two of us, facing each other. My father sat on the couch and I sat in a chair across from him. Neither of us knew what to say to the other. We had sat there for nearly ten minutes, neither of us saying anything or even attempting conversation. I was struck dumb by the fact that he had come here. Was he perhaps looking to make things right between us, or was he only here to yell at Mom about the fact that she never told him about me? 

"So…" I said uncomfortably. He looked up at me expectantly. My fingers twisted together as I tried to figure out something to say.

"Manhattan was pretty nice." I finished lamely, grimacing at how retarded I sounded.

He smiled weakly.

"It's not bad." He replied. We fell back into silence. I never had been one to like the quiet, I needed noise and chaos. But there we sat, the most uncomfortable silence ever recorded in history between us.

"You have a nice house." He said quickly, glancing around the living room.

"Thanks." I said, unsure of where to go from there. "Would…would you like a tour?" I asked, anything to get us moving and make my nerves settle even a little bit.

"Su…"

"Sam, I'm home." Mom called from the entrance way, cutting off his answer. She walked into the living room and stopped dead in her tracks, her face deathly pale as her eyes landed on my father.

"Madison." He stood, wiping his palms on his pants nervously.

"Wh…what are you doing here?" She asked, her voice low and nervous. Her eyes moved around the room, unable to rest on the man in front of her.

"I don't really know." He gave a nervous chuckle. Mom shifted, her arms wrapping tightly around her in the defensive way I knew so well. She only did that when she was feeling helpless and vulnerable. She bit her lip and looked at me where I sat behind my father. I shrugged, silently telling her that I didn't know his reason for being at our house either.

"You shouldn't be here." She whispered, her eyes beginning to water.

"I know," Ephram ducked his head and shoved his hands in his pockets, "but I had to know Madison, why did you keep Samantha a secret from me?" Mom straightened up to her full height.

"Sam," she said, lifting her chin defiantly, "go to your room. Your _father_ and I need to talk." She said father as if it were a vile word. I stood and walked past them, neither one seeming to notice me as I turned the corner that led to the stairs. I didn't go up to my room, instead, I sat on the steps and waited.

"Why Madison?" He asked. He sounded so hurt. "Why did you keep my daughter from me?" I could hear Mom breathing in deeply. Five slow breathes, just like my Yoga teacher taught.

"I wanted to tell you," she started, pausing, trying to find the right words. "But I couldn't."

"Why not? I would have helped you. I would have been part of Samantha's life." He kept calling me Samantha, both of us knew we didn't know each other well enough yet to use anything other than formal names.

Mom started pacing, I could hear her footsteps on the carpet. She paced a lot when she was worried or anxious. I remember she had nearly worn a hole in the carpet when I didn't come home until six in the morning the night of my senior prom.

"Why don't you ask your father that question." She bit out.

"What are you talking about Madison?" I could tell Ephram was getting fed up with Mom's cryptic answers. He wanted her to tell him the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. I half expected Mom to pull a Tom Cruise in A Few Good Men and yell "You can't handle the truth!" That definitely would have made this whole thing quite comical.

Mom's pacing stopped and she drew in a deep breath.

"When I found out that I was pregnant, I went to your dad." She said, "He told me that I wasn't to tell you about Sam."

"No, dad wouldn't do that." I could practically hear him shaking his head.

"I have the letter telling me that he would pay for everything Sam needed if I didn't tell you!" Mom cried. She hates when people don't believe her. It was deathly quiet in the living room and I strained to hear even the smallest sound.

"You were doing well Ephram," Mom broke the silence. Her voice sounded waterlogged, as if she were struggling against tears. "You and Amy had just gotten back together and you were gonna go to Julliard for their summer program, and it just didn't seem like the time to tell you. I didn't take the money, if that's what you wanted to know. I was going to tell you about Sam, but I began to see that it wasn't a good idea. Your dad was right, you didn't need to know."

"What the _hell_!" His voice shook the walls. "I had _every _right to know that I fathered a child. I don't care if you didn't take the money, you should have told me. Samantha is my daughter as much as yours, I should have been the one to choose whether or not I wanted to be part of her life. Not you, and definitely not my father!"

I stood and quickly ran up the stairs. I didn't want to hear anymore of this. I didn't want to hear Mom crying quietly, and I didn't want to hear Ephram's angry, labored breathing as he fought to control his rage. It was just too much for me.

* * *

It was kinda short, but the next chapter should be longer. I hope that this chapter was worth the wait and I hope that y'all will review and tell me what you thought. 

krazypirategurl: Yes, if you read chapter6 carefully, you'll see that Ephram mentions his mother as Julia's namesake.

Clause for the Cause: I too think that stories set in the here and now are better than future fics. But this is a story that was running inmy head for a while and I just had to write. If you're interested in stories that take place in the present, I am thinking of starting one about Bright and Hannah that takes place during the current season.

shaterika: Your suggestions are good, but they're not something that would fit into where I want to take this story. Troy will return in a later chapter, and he and Ephram will must likely have words, but it'll be about something completely different from what Ephram did to Samantha. Still, thank you for the suggestions, I always like when people give me suggestions and I hope that you if you come up with more that you will share them with me.

Nadia Mack, freak4wb, IMINLOVEWITHABOYNAMEDPACEY, sportygal71188, MissLaughALot, courio, auggy1984, OTHlover04, kursk, and PeanutButterRocks: Thank you all for reading and reviewing this story. Reviews keep me writing and I hope you all will continue.

A special thank you to everyone who told me Ephram's mother's name. I corrected that mistake and I have all of you to thank for pointing it out to me.


	8. To Everwood We Go

Chapter Eight

My favorite thing about my room is the fact that I have complete access to the roof. I have one gabled window that sits just two feet above the slant of the roof. Whenever I need to think I always climb out of the window and sit out there on the black shingles. Yep, that's my place. The roof is my domain, the place that Mom knows is totally off limits to her. It's where I ran to during the lull in my parents' argument.

I was sitting up there, my knees pulled up to my chest, rocking back and forth as tears slowly slid down my face. The fighting had stopped downstairs, but I wasn't ready to return there just incase one of them had decided that they hadn't torn into the other enough.

Sitting on the roof always helps me to bring things into perspective, but that day, nothing was clear to me. They were talking now, their voices barely carrying up to the second floor, let alone the roof. I couldn't make out anything they said, only their tones, which were, at least, more sedate than before. But I knew they were talking about me. No, I'm not conceited, I just knew that they were discussing me. After all, I am the reason that Ephram even came here in the first place. I repeat, I am not conceited, it's just a fact.

The longer I sat there and listened to their voices, the more and more the urge to see my grandfather- the one who paid Mom off- filled me. I wondered what he looked like, or what kind of person he was. I had to see him, I had to know about where I came from.

I climbed back inside my room and picked up my phone. I dialed, my fingers knew the number by heart now.

"Hey, Troy?"

* * *

We met at baggage claim in the Denver airport. Tears ran down my face as I hugged him, kissing his neck as I was wrapped in his arms. His lips rained kisses on my face and we kissed each other passionately. I must say, it kinda reminded me of one of those reunions between lovers in the movies. It was kinda exciting, like I was living my own fairytale or something. Anyway, back to the story.

"So," Troy said when we finally separated, "what's the plan?"

"Ever been to Everwood?"

* * *

I pulled up to the curb and stepped out of my car. Troy got out and, together, we stared at the house sitting before us. My grandfather's house.

It was a cute little place, two stories with a front porch that had a wooden swing on it. Quaint.

"You're sure you want to do this?" Troy asked, looking at me as I came to stand next to him on the lawn. "I mean, you _do _remember what happened when you just walked up to your father and told him who you were."

"Yes," I rolled my eyes, "I remember." I sighed. "What do I do, Troy?"

"Well, since we're here, we might as well just check this guy out." He looked down at me, "But this time, we don't tell him who we are." I hit his arm playfully.

"Shut up." I laughed before turning serious. "Okay, let's do this."

We walked as one up to the door where Troy rang the doorbell. It wasn't long before the door was opened by a woman, her pale blonde hair swept back into a ponytail.

"Can I help you?" She asked with a genuinely kind smile that reached all the way to her light blue eyes.

"Um…" I hadn't anticipated anyone but Dr. Brown answering the door.

"We're looking for Dr. Brown." Troy spoke up, his hand coming to rest on the small of my back. I smiled up at him, thankful for the silent support.

"Come on in," the woman said, "I'll go get him."

* * *

Ephram's POV

I rubbed a weary hand over my face. I was sick of fighting with Madison. All she seemed able to focus on was that my dad had tried to pay her off to keep Samantha a secret. Oh believe, I was mad as hell about that too, and I was going to have to talk to him about it, but right then I wanted to focus on why she didn't tell me about my own daughter. Okay, so dad tried to pay her off, but she didn't take the money, that means she could have told me. So why hadn't she?

"Would you shut up!" I cried, quickly losing my patience with her. Madison turned towards me, her lips forming a tight, white line.

"That's better." I said, more quietly this time. "Now, let's get back to why the hell you didn't tell me about Samantha."

"I told you," Madison seethed, "you were doing good, you didn't need a child to complicate your life."

"I still think that that should have been _my_ decision to make, not yours."

"Yeah, well I made the decision so deal with it." Madison turned away from me and looked out the window looking out into the backyard.

"I wanted to tell you," she whispered, I had to strain to hear her words, "I really did Ephram. But your dad convinced me that it wasn't a good idea. God, I'm so stupid. I knew that I shouldn't listen to him, but I did." She turned towards me again, this time her eyes filled with unshed tears. "I'm sorry."

I was angry, pissed actually, that Dad would choose not to tell me that I had fathered a child, but I couldn't focus on that right then. Right then my main concern was Samantha and whether or not she would let me into her life now.

"Can I um…can I talk to Samantha?" I asked, crying women were never really my forte. Which is kind of funny since I was married to one of the biggest criers in Everwood.

"Okay." Madison nodded her head, wiping the tears from her eyes. "Just go up the stairs, her room is on the right."

"Thanks." I quickly headed up the stairs. The door to Samantha's room stood open, the room empty. The closet door was open and clothes were missing from nearly half the hangers. Dresser drawers were half closed, as if shut in a hurry. A piece of white paper sat on the lavender colored bedspread. I picked it up.

Mom,

_I know I said that I wouldn't do this again, but I have to. Your and Ephram fighting has made me realize, I need to meet this man who has forced you to keep me a secret all these years. I'm going to Everwood. I'm sorry, but I have to go. Please don't come after me. I'll be well taken care of. I love you. _

Sam

I hurried down the stairs, the letter clutched in my hand.

* * *

Well, I hope you liked this chapter and will tell me what you thought.

Nautica7mk:You can look forward to more Sam/Ephram interaction as the story progresses, thier relationship is one of the most important in this story.

Kursk: Amy _will_ be inupcoming chapters. Look for her and Ephram to have a few run-ins as well.

Doves30, shaterika, krazypirategurl, Tessie26, shelby, and auggy1984: Thank you all so much for reviewing this story, it really means a lot to me.


	9. Meeting Andy Brown

Wow, I can't believe how long it's been since I last updated this story. I am so incredibly sorry. I hope you all enjoy this chapter.

Chapter Nine

There's something very uncomfortable about sitting in somebody's living room waiting for them to get the person that you came to see. Troy and I sat on the couch, where the woman had directed us to sit while she went to go get Dr. Brown. We could hear her upstairs, walking down the hall up there calling for Andy. It wasn't long before she returned, followed by a tall, bearded man. I stared at him, I couldn't help it. This man was my grandfather, the one who had wanted me kept a secret.

Anger filled me as I looked at him, but it was quickly replaced by awe. This man was Dr. Andrew Brown. His work was legendary, studied at all the great universities. People came from all over the world to have him perform surgery on them. This was truly one of the greatest brain surgeons to ever walk the earth.

"Hello," he smiled as he approached Troy and I. "I'm Dr. Brown," He reached out a hand, a large, slim fingered hand. First Troy shook his hand, then I did. His grip was strong, confident, everything that people say a good handshake is supposed to be.

"I'm Troy," Troy said, taking the lead as I was still too overcome with conflicting emotions to speak, "and this is my girlfriend Samantha." _Girlfriend_, he said I was his girlfriend. I chanced a quick look at Troy. So I was his girlfriend? I liked the sound of that.

Mentally, I slapped myself. I needed to focus here, I had to keep my wits about me.

"It's nice to meet you both." Dr. Brown said, sitting down in a chair opposite us. The blonde woman moved from the living room to the kitchen and back, sodas in her hands. She offered them to us, I took mine with a gracious smile. I needed something to focus on other than my grandfather, so, I busied myself with playing with the tab on the soda can.

"What can I do for you?" Dr. Brown asked.

"Well…um…" Troy and I hadn't covered this part of our story. Hell, we hadn't even had a story to begin with.

"Sam and I are going to be attending Brown University this coming fall, pre-med, and we were wondering if we could talk to you about what we could expect to go through during our studies." _Damn _this boy could come up with a story fast.

"Now I know this is a little weird and everything," Troy continued, "but we both really admire you Dr. Brown. And we would appreciate any wisdom or encouragement you could bestow upon us."

Fast thinking _and_ articulate, boy do I know how to pick 'em or what? What a lucky girl I was to find Troy.

"Well," Dr. Brown said slowly, processing everything that Troy had just said, "I am very flattered that you would choose me to admire, especially when I don't deserve it."

The woman perched on the arm of the chair that my grandfather sat in, her arm draped over his shoulders as she leaned into him. I looked at her, studying her. This woman wasn't my grandmother, biologically at least, but I had read that Dr. Brown had remarried a some years after his wife's death. I could only assume that this was the woman he had married. I racked my brain, I remembered reading her name some where, but what was it. Nina, that's what it was.

She caught me looking at her and smiled. She had a pretty smile.

"We'll be in town for a few days if you don't have time to talk now." Troy said. Okay, I had missed something. While I was busy thinking there had been a whole conversation going on around me that I had _completely_ missed. Oh well, Troy would fill me in later.

"Why don't we meet for lunch tomorrow," Dr. Brown said, "Nina manages a restaurant in town, Momma Joy's," he smiled up at his wife, "we could meet there."

"Great," Troy nodded and gripped my hand in his, helping me to stand. "We'll see you tomorrow."

>>>>>

It had been an hour since we left my grandfather's and we were simply walking around Everwood, not quite ready to begin the search for a hotel to stay the night in. Troy's hand was strong around my own, his fingers entwined with mine. I leaned into him. He let go of my hand and wrapped his arm around my waist.

Everwood was a beautiful place with the mountains peaking just above the tops of the buildings that lined the main street. The shop fronts were cute and quaint, giving off that small town vibe that everybody loves. People walked down the sidewalks going about their business, but still sparing time for a glance at Troy and I.

We were newcomers here, an anomaly in this small town where everybody knows everybody and their business.

Passing by the market, I stopped suddenly, my eyes glued to two women who were walking towards us.

The one woman had curly, auburn hair and glasses. There was a friendly smile on her face as she talked animatedly with her friend. She was dressed simply in a pair of jeans and a purple T-shirt, but there was a quiet beauty about her. A beauty that came from the inside rather than the outside. But she wasn't the one that I was staring at.

Her friend, the woman who walked beside her with a haunted look in her eyes and dark bags beneath them, was the exact same woman in the picture that had hung above the mantle place in Ephram's apartment. Her arms were wrapped tightly around herself, as if to ward off the light chill in the air, or possibly the sympathetic stares that were directed at her from a few of the people walking by.

"Hey, Sam, you alright?" Troy asked, looking at my worriedly.

"What?" I snapped out of my daze and looked up at him. "Oh, yeah, I'm fine." I reassured him. The women passed us, my eyes followed them involuntarily.

"You sure you're alright?" Troy asked.

"I'm fine." I said, standing up on my tiptoes to place a kiss on his lips. "Stop worrying." He smiled and captured my lips once more.

>>>>>

Alright, it was a very short chapter, but I am so stuck right now it's not even funny. I am hoping to update this again, but I don't hold out much hope for inspiration to strike anytime soon. Anyways, please review and maybe I'll get some inspiration.

Again, sorry for the short chapter.

kidakadrew: Thank you so much for choosing to review my story. And thanks for the amazing compliment. I love it when people are able to believe what I write, that means I'm doing a good job. :)

kursk and couriro: Right now I am not at liberty to say who Ephram is going to end up with, or if he even ends up with anyone at all. Sorry.

Nikki108, krazypirategurl, Miss-Anna87, Nautica7mk, Buffyann, auggy1984, and Doves30: Thank you all so much for reviewing. It really means a lot to me.


	10. Lost and Depressed

Chapter Ten- **Amy's POV **

I remember when I first saw her, the girl who would one day make me see the truth. She was walking with a boy, and she was staring at me as if she knew me. I was used to the stares, but hers was different. It wasn't sympathetic. No. It was a surprised stare, a shocked one. As if she hadn't expected to see me. I had no clue who she was then, I thought she was only some tourist come in to see the mountains or to ogle at the legendary Dr. Andy Brown. Little did I know who she truly was, but I would later find out. We all would.

Hannah had asked me to go out shopping that day. She said she needed to get some stuff for the house and for Jack. I had gone along, albeit unwillingly. We visited store after store. I was tired, and ready to go home and crawl beneath the covers of my bed. Another nightmare had plagued my dreams the night before, leaving me drained of energy. It was all I could do to keep my feet moving beside Hannah's. I complained and, after awhile, Hanna relented and said we could go home.

My parents were out of town for the week, so I was staying with Hannah. Pathetic of me, I know. There I was, in my mid-thirties, and still living at home. I would have gotten my own place, but the nights were too terrible to spend alone.

We walked back to the car, and there she was.

The girl was familiar looking, something about her sparked a feeling inside of me. A recognition, a longing. I _knew_ her, but yet I didn't know her. She seemed to draw me to her, but I refused to let me feet wander from their path. I wanted to get home, and no strange girl would deter me from my way.

She watched us pass before the boy she was with drew her attention away. I watched her as Hannah pulled away from the curb. The way she carried herself, hands stuffed in her pockets, seemed so much like somebody else I knew. Then I remembered, Ephram always had his hands stuffed into his pockets. It was some kind of weird habit with him. The thought of Ephram brought back images of our marriage, and of Julia.

Tears sprung to my eyes and I wiped them away with the back of my hand.

"Are you alright?" Hanna asked, her eyes concerned as she placed a comforting hand on my knee.

"I'm fine." I lied, not wanting to get into yet another discussion on mourning with Hannah. She seemed to think that I hadn't yet mourned the death of my daughter and the failure of my marriage. She wouldn't come out and say it, but I knew that that's what she thought. Always she was trying to talk to me about how it was okay to express my feelings and how it was unhealthy to keep them bottled up inside. I just wasn't in the mood that day.

"Let's just go home." I smiled weakly at her, mentally urging her to leave me the hell alone. She nodded and turned her attention to the road ahead.

We pulled into the driveway a few minutes later. I helped Hannah carry the bags into the house.

"We're home." Hannah called, pushing the door open. A baby's cry greeted us.

"It's about time." Bright walked into the kitchen, the wailing baby in his arms. Hannah cooed and took the child from him.

"Has my little rabbit been a good boy?" She cradled the baby in her arms.

"He's been a terror." Bright wrapped an arm around Hannah's waist.

I watched them longingly. I remembered when Ephram used to wrap his arms around me like that. I remembered when we had first had Julia and the way that Ephram treated her like she was the most precious and fragile thing in the world.

The nightmare popped into my head. I shook it away, not wanting to think right then.

Bright kissed Hannah and my heart tore. I missed Ephram's kisses.

Married a year after Ephram and I, Hannah and Bright had made a good life for themselves. They had waited longer to have children, Jack being their first, because Hannah was scared that their children would have Huntingtons. Bright had finally talked her into having kids and then Jack was born. Bright had named him, his retarded sense of humor taking over when he chose the name Jack Abbott. He said he chose it 'cause he liked the name Jack, but later admitted that he liked it because Jack Abbott sounded like jackrabbit. He's weird.

It was too much for me to see them act like the happy family that they are. So I ran. Up the stairs and into the guest bedroom, slamming the door behind me. I felt miserable, like my soul had been ripped out of me, leaving me an empty shell of a person. Emotions were something rare. I hardly ever felt anything other than emptiness and loneliness. Sometimes fear would invade me, leaving me trembling beneath my covers.

I had begged Dad for medication. I knew that I was depressed, but he resisted. I knew that he wanted me to work this out for myself. I'd been on medication before and it had helped, but Dad still refused. I didn't dare go to Dr. Brown. What if he told Ephram? No, I couldn't live with that. So, I simply lived like this. Depressed, afraid.

I burrowed beneath the covers, feeling safe within the confines of the heavy comforter. Despite the warm weather, I still wrapped myself tightly within a cocoon of quilts. It was the only way that I could even remotely feel warm. A coldness had seeped into my bones along with Julia's death, a coldness that refused to leave.

My head rested on the pillow that was still damp from my crying the night before. My body ached, and my eyelids felt like they weighed a ton. I fought against sleep, not wanting the dream to happen again. But I knew it was inevitable. Finally, I gave myself up to it, knowing that the dream would come despite my attempts. It always did.

* * *

Short chapter, but then again they all have been lately. I hope you liked this little peek into Amy's mind and will review and tell me what you thought. 

freak4wb: Andy has no clue what happened to Madison. He didn't know whether or not she had the baby and, if she did, whether it was a girl or boy. So, that means that he shouldn't have recognized Sam's name or anything. Remember, Troy didn't give last names when he introduced himself and Sam, so Andy couldn't have known from her last name either.

Elvira, Doves30, krazypirategurl, Nautica7mk, kursk, and auggy1984: Thank you all for reviewing this story. It really means a lot to me that you would take the time to tell me what you think.


	11. Discovery

Chapter Eleven

Troy held my hand tightly in his as we walked into Mama Joy's the next morning. I was nervous as hell. I felt Troy squeeze my hand reassuringly. I smiled up at him, grateful once more that he was there beside me, helping me through.

I saw him sitting there at the counter, sipping a cup of coffee. My heart flip-flopped inside my chest. Would I ever get used to seeing my grandfather? Probably, but most likely not any time soon. Nina was walking around the small diner, taking orders from costumers and taking them back to the kitchen. She saw us walk in and whispered something to Andy as she walked past him. He glanced up and his eyes caught mine. I smiled pleasantly, trying not to show the nervousness that I felt.

"Hello." He greeted us, standing up and indicating a table not far from the counter. We sat.

"We're glad that you could see us, Dr. Brown." Troy said, "I mean you're probably really busy."

"Nah," he shrugged, "I'm never too busy to talk to potential doctors." His grin was contagious. I felt myself instantly at ease with him. Troy seemed to sense that I was relaxing as well. His hand dropped from mine as he began to weave our tale and ask Dr. Brown questions about the medical profession. I listened intently, taking in every single thing that Andy said. I studied him, committing to memory every infliction of his words, every contour of his face, everything.

Nina stopped by the table more than once to take our lunch orders and refill our drinks: coffee (Troy and Dr. Brown) and tea (me). Every time she caught my eye she would smile at me. I couldn't help but smile back. There was something about her, my step-grandmother, that drew me to her. She was seemed so cool, so nice. I could see Mom being like her when she got older. I think that's what made me feel so easy around Nina, that I saw Mom in her.

I lost track of time. So caught up in the conversation it felt as if only a few moments had passed. Suddenly, Andy stood up and laid some money down on the table top. I glanced at the money, it was enough to cover all our meals.

"I hate to leave so suddenly," he said, finishing up his coffee with one gulp, "but I was supposed to be back at the office an hour ago."

I glanced at my watch then. We had been talking for two and a half hours!

"Of course," Troy nodded and shook his hand, "it's been a pleasure, Dr. Brown."

"It certainly has." Andy grinned. He headed towards the door then stopped and turned back to look at us. "Why don't you two come over for dinner tonight." He said. "We're having a big get together meal and it'd be great if you two could join us."

"Sure." I spoke up quickly, wanting to accept the invitation before it was taken off the table. A get together that could possibly include some of my relatives that I knew nothing about. This was my big chance to meet everyone, to make my impression on them before I decided whether or not to tell them who I really was.

"Excellent." Andy said. "Come by around six."

"Will do." Troy said. Dr. Brown waved and headed out the door. I turned to Troy, beaming. He laughed and shook his head before gripping my hand in his and leading me out the door.

Once we were free of the diner, and of Nina's hearing range, Troy looked at me, searching my eyes.

"You're sure you're ready for this?" He asked, meaning the family dinner. I nodded.

"I'm sure." He still looked a bit skeptical. I took his face in my hands and kissed him gently.

"I want to do this, Troy. This could be my only chance to let them know who I am."

He sighed.

"As long as you're sure."

"I am."

* * *

**Ephram's POV**

Madison was ready to fly out to Everwood as soon as she saw the note that Samantha had left, but I convinced her to give our daughter at least one night out there before going after her. Believe me, I was just as ready as Madison to get Samantha back, but I knew that she needed some time away from us. I knew that Samantha needed a chance to clear her head, to figure out who she was before we went after her. She had lived eighteen years thinking she was one person only to find out that she was someone else entirely. I think that called for a few days of peace from her parents.

I stayed the night at Madison's. I didn't really want to, but I didn't see how I could leave her once Samantha had disappeared. Waking up on a strange couch, in a strange house, left me a little disjointed the next morning. It took a few minutes before I figured out where I was. By that time Madison had wandered down into the living room, her eyes red and puffy from crying or lack of sleep or, most likely, from both.

"You alright?" I asked, knowing the answer already.

"No." She shook her head. "I have to go get her, Ephram, before he figures out who she is."

I knew who she was talking about, but I couldn't figure out why she wouldn't want my father to find out about his granddaughter. To me, it seemed like the perfect way to get back at him for keeping Samantha from my life. Kind of like a Here you go, here's the granddaughter you kept hidden for eighteen years kind of revenge. But Madison, of course, didn't see it that way.

"I don't want him hurting her." She continued. "I don't want her to get hurt the same way I did."

"Alright," I nodded, "we'll try and get the earliest flight out to Denver as possible."

Madison looked at me as if I had grown a second head.

"You want to go with me?" She asked.

"Of course. Samantha's as much my daughter as she is yours." I said, "And besides, I want to see my dad's face when he realizes who Samantha is and that I know who she is." I couldn't help sounding a little cynical as I said this.

* * *

Samantha's POV

Walking up the front steps I was flooded by the same trepidation that I had the first time I walked these steps only the day before. I was going to meet the rest of my family. I was going to find out what kind of people I came from. I was nervous as hell, but I had Troy right beside me.

I rang the doorbell and Andy greeted us a few minutes later.

"Glad you two could make it." He smiled and gestured us inside the dining room/kitchen and then led us into the living room where Nina sat with five other people.

"Everybody, I want you to meet Troy and Samantha, they're the two I was telling you about." He boomed. The attention of everyone in the room was focused on us.

"Samantha, Troy, this is Dr. Harold Abbott and his wife Rose. Their son Bright and his wife Hannah. And this is their daughter Amy."

Dr. Abbott and his wife were an older couple, probably mid to late fifties. They seemed nice enough. Rose had a friendly tilt to her mouth and Dr. Abbott looked like one of those men who tried to appear tough but couldn't actually pull it off. Bright was probably one of the handsomest older men that I'd seen. With blonde curly hair and eyes that were to die for. I could totally tell that he was one of the guys that girls had gone crazy for in high school. Hannah and Amy were the same two women that I had seen the day before. It was a little shocking seeing them again, but at the same time it was like I sort of expected that I'd see them again.

"It's nice to meet you all." I said, surprised that I could find the words to speak. These people may not have been related to me through blood, but I had a feeling that they were more like family than even my own grandmother.

"Well, it's almost time to eat." Nina said, checking her watch. "Let's give Delia a few more minutes to get here."

As if on cue, the front door opened and a figure strode into the living room.

"Hey everyone." The woman grinned. "Sorry I'm late."

I looked at her, studying every inch and committing it all to memory just in case I never saw her again.

She was average height with straight, glossy brown hair and large brown eyes. Dressed plainly in a pair of jeans, a t-shirt, and a Marlins baseball cap pulled low on her forehead, there was no hiding the elegance that she possessed. She carried herself like a queen, back straight and shoulders back with her chin held high.

"Not a problem." Andy hugged her tightly. He introduced her to us. As soon as Delia's eyes met mine I saw them widen slightly. She knew. I don't know how she could have, but somehow she knew who my father was. Or at the very least, that I looked very much like her brother. She was the first person to pick up on the resemblance, and I prayed that she would not reveal her discovery to anyone else.

* * *

Well, I hope y'all liked this chapter. Sorry if it took me awhile to post, I've just been really busy. My family's getting ready to move and we've all been busy packing, plus I've started my senior year of high school and things are kind of hectic. Anyways, I hope you will review and tell me what you thought. 

krazypirategurl: Everyone will eventually find out who Sam is, including Andy.

kursk: It is still undetermined if Ephram and Amy will be getting back together. By the end of the story, though, we all will know if they were able to fix thier marriage.

freak4wb, Doves30, Nautica7mk: Thank you all so much for reviewing. It really means a lot to me that you would take the time to tell me what you think of my story.


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